


To Build A Dream On

by Spacecadet72



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry has a close call at work, and can't sleep that night, kept up by worries. Abigail helps put thing in perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Build A Dream On

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to [idelthoughts](http://archiveofourown.org/users/idelthoughts) for beta'ing and talking me through this fic, as well as the inspiration for the title, which comes from the song 'A Kiss to Build A Dream On' by Louis Armstrong. 
> 
> Be sure to check out the other fics in the ficathon!

Abigail paused at the edge of the living room. She’d woken up to an empty bed and at two thirty in the morning, she knew that meant Henry was brooding. He’d been acting off all day. She’d just been waiting for him to tell her what was going on. He was sitting on the couch, his head down, his focus on the book open in his lap, but she could tell he probably hadn’t taken in a single word. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

She pitched her voice low and hushed, careful not to wake Abe sleeping soundly just down the hall. 

Henry looked up from his book with a faint smile and shook his head. 

She walked over to join him on the couch, humming "Mr. Sandman" to herself as she sat on the couch and curled into him. He brought his arm around her and huffed out a laugh and when he realized what it was that she was humming. She smiled into his shoulder, glad that she could bring him out of his thoughts, if only for a moment. 

She reached a hand up and began absentmindedly playing with the hair at the back of head. She finished humming the song, and shifted her head to look up at him. 

“What’s keeping you awake?” 

He leaned into her hand, and closed his eyes. 

“Just thoughts.” 

She hummed in acknowledgment, knowing that if she stayed quiet, he would tell her what was bothering him. He had never been a silent brooder. Not with her, at least. A few beats passed, and he sighed before opening his mouth to speak. 

“I know we talked about waiting, but do you think Abe’s old enough to know everything?”

Abigail stayed silent for a moment. This was something they’d discussed at length, but it seemed that they never really came to an answer they were both satisfied with. She knew that Henry was still terrified of telling anyone, even his own son. She often wondered if he would have ever told her the truth if she hadn’t seen him die in front of her. Would he have just left one day without a word, like he’d tried to that morning after their stay at the Hotel Montoliogne? She remembered waking up to an empty bed, remembered how sleepiness had turned to confusion and then determination as she had run after him with her dress thrown on carelessly and her hair flying. 

"I think we can wait a little longer. He is only ten." she said finally. 

He nodded, but didn't say anything. 

"What brought this up?" She asked, her voice soft and underlined with worry. 

He sighed. "I thought I saw an old colleague at the hospital today." 

She had to take a moment to remind herself that they weren’t moving again, that there wasn’t anyone who posed a threat to their family. “Who was it?” she asked, her voice calm. 

“There was a German medical student, Kurt Albrecht, who studied under me a few years before the Great War. We lost touch after the war, and then too much time had passed.” he spoke quietly, and she knew there was more to that story than she was going to get tonight.

“But it wasn’t him?” Abigail asked softly. 

He shook his head. “But what if it had been him? Abe was too young to really remember the last move, but how do we explain the next time we have to run?"

“We don’t know when that will be.” she pointed out, with a calm rationality she was used to using during one of his fret sessions. “There’s no point in putting this on him just yet,” she hurried to finish her thought as the guilt start to creep across his face, “and when we do tell him, even if it’s tomorrow, he will be fine, because he’s strong and smart and resourceful. And we have each other.” 

She lifted her head to look him and he was looking at her like she was responsible for putting the sun in the sky. It was a heady feeling being on the receiving end of that much attention, and it would probably be too much if she didn't feel the same way about him. 

It seemed like he had always looked at her that way. It was the way he had first looked at her that cold night in Germany before she realized just how much her two boys would change everything. It had taken her a little longer to fall, but not much. Somewhere between caring for the wounded, checking up on Abe and dealing with the end of the war, they had become a family.

“How is it that you always know just what to say?” he asked, his smile warm and a little awestruck. 

She just smiled and moved in closer. 

“I know everything, Dr. Morgan. That’s why you married me.” 

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

\-----

They stayed quiet after that. Abigail had gotten the song stuck in his head, and so Henry hummed a few bars of "Mr. Sandman" and reached over with his free hand to grab hers. After several minutes of sitting in silence, Abigail yawned and pushed Henry’s arm aside so that she could stand up. She paused on the edge of the couch cushion and turned back to him with a smile, her drowsiness making her expression soft around the edges. 

"You should come to bed." 

He nodded and gave her hand a small squeeze. 

"I will."

She leaned up to give him a quick kiss and then she was gone, disappearing around the corner and down the hall.

He picked his book up from where he had set it down on the couch, knowing even as he did that the novel wasn't going to be read tonight. He looked around their little apartment, hazy and dim in the light of the lamp in the corner. 

It wasn't much, but he'd built a life in this small apartment with his wife and son. He smiled at the thought. He had resigned himself to never having this kind of life again after Nora, after having to hide everything about himself. Yes, he cared for his patients and found his work fulfilling, but he hadn’t connected with anyone in a very long time. Not until a cold evening in 1945 when a young nurse asked if he was a doctor. 

He smiled wider at the memory, and wondered just what he was doing, fretting alone in his living room, when he could join his wife in their warm bed. With that thought, he leaned over to turn off the lamp.


End file.
